Irish Ever After
by Wijida
Summary: Janeway and Michael Sullivan. Apon entering Sullivan's, a quiet conversation between Michael and Captain Janeway...to bring a realization to the tired Captain


**Disclaimer**: Voyager, and all characters pertaining to, belong to Paramount. What's simple is true, unfortunately.

**Note:**This doesn't spoil anything that I know of..just the characters...or one, anyway. In case you don't even want a glimpse of "Fair Haven" before watching it, don't read this. And you'll be seeing a bunch of J/M fics for a while..until I run out of ideas, that is.

Irish Ever After

By Mizi

Though Kathryn Janeway was indeed her own person, it often occured to her that at least several times in her journey she felt as if she weren't. The driving force in her life was no longer of basic desire, but of basic human need- the need to survive. She needed to get the crew home;needed to see the blue and white globe of her home planet, revolving slowly outside her viewport.

She needed so many things, and most, unfortunately, were out of reach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael Sullivan looked up the moment he heard her voice, and a smile grazed his lips as her feet crossed the floor and approached the bar- his bar. Only a soiled dustcloth and polished countertop now kept her from nearing him further.

"Hello, Katie." He greeted her now, looking up to see a hint of mirth in her firey blue eyes. And that hair-a flaming red-brown that struck him as unmistakably irish in ansestry. She had to be from somewhere near...hadn't she mentioned an aunt nearby? Two towns over? Or just one?

"Michael." She addressed him solemnly, pulling her body - in a beautiful dress of the darkest green, and a tightly laced bodice- onto a tall stool. Hands folded in front of her, and Michael glanced down at them. So small. So white. So powerful. "I'll take a cup of tea."

"Coming right up." Katie O'Claire, he thought to himself, turning to pour scalding liquid into a porcelean cup. Adding a twist of lemon, and a splash of milk, before delivering it into the waiting grasp of his early morning patron. "You're here before usual, Katie."

"I couldn't sleep." She replied, stirring her tea wearily, with one shining silver spoon that lay apon the countertop. "Too many unsettled thoughts."

"And not enough time to mull o'er them, is that it?" Coming around the bar, he perched easily on the stool next to her. "Talk about it?"

"I couldn't."

"Try me." Waiting patiently, then reaching out a warm hand, he curled his own large fingers around hers, which now held the moistened cup of tea. "I'm listening."

"Well," She inhaled sharply, exhaled calmly, and taking a sip of the cooling liquid. "I'm afraid I..have to leave Fair Haven."

"Leave?" His heart dropped, several meters. His grip tightened, securing himself on her hand. Feeling her pulse through his fingertips. "Katie O'Claire.."

"Please." She refused to acknowledge the term, only staring off behind the bar, at her image in the large mirror. "No more, Michael."

"No more what?" He demanded, his irish brogue thick and strong now. "Katie, no. I've got to admit something to you before you give me off with a simple 'dear john.' You're to listen to this, or to stay here until you do."

She nodded, relinquishing herself to his gaze. He took a deep breath, lessening his grip, yet not releasing her. What had to be said had to be said now, and here, and while he was still man enough to admit it to himself. In witness to all he held dear, and who he held dear.

"Katie..Katie O'Claire..I love you."

Shock manifested itself in the form of a blush, moving swiftly over her cheeks, her eyes widening at the three words that meant so much.

"_I_ love you." She smiled then, and the second where he had thought otherwise, vanished.

"Can I kiss you?"

"How could you not?" She asked, and he wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her close to him, lips desending apon hers in a kiss that could only be captured in memory...no description could ever quite explain what passed between them at that very moment in time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she returned to her quarters, a single thought entered her mind and remained throughout the time it took for her to brush her hair, shed her costume, and slide into bed.

Did she really love him?

Was it as simple as that? Love a hologram? And it was, in no uncertain terms, obvious that the hologram did indeed love her back. Although she wasn't quite sure of how to continue- go back, or move forward? After all, five years was a long time...

But the holodeck was always there, and no doubt, Michael would be waiting when she got of duty tomorrow.

A smile lit her face, and she rolled over to drift away in dreams of a future day.

She _was_ Irish, ever after.

~Fin  var yviContents='http://us.toto.geo.yahoo.com/toto?s=76001089 geovisit();


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